Chapter 11: Misunderstanding

The Embroidery Pavilion glowed with lamplight through the windows on the second floor. The maid, Little Red, said softly, “The young lady insisted on returning to her own western courtyard. The master could not dissuade her, so he assigned more guards outside. With you inside, that thief will never succeed.

“There are two rooms on the first floor. I live in one, while the other is empty, so it is just right for you, Constable Gu. It is usually used to store odds and ends, so it looks rather cluttered, though it is not actually dirty. Please make do for a few days. I am right next door; call me if you need anything.”

Little Red efficiently spread and folded the bedding on the bed, never pausing in her chatter. Without opening the bundle, she handed it to Gu Yu, curtsied, and withdrew.

Gu Yu placed his iron rulers on the table and sat down on the edge of the bed. In one corner of the room stood all manner of jars and bottles that had had no place elsewhere in the courtyard; in another were a rain cape and a flower spade. It seemed the room had once been occupied by servants. The air was damp and stifling, with a faint odor of decay, but Gu Yu paid it little attention. Beneath the oil lamp, he sat quietly, lost in thought.

Upstairs, when Little Red entered the room, Wang Shihan was leaning against the bed, idly turning a hairpin in her hand. After Fang Wei had left, Wang Chengjian had ordered the servants to restore the room. The smashed cabinet had been removed, and the shards of porcelain on the floor had all been cleared away.

Little Red complained, “Miss, so much happened tonight, and your injuries have not yet healed. You should go to bed early.”

Wang Shihan gave a noncommittal hum, her eyes thoughtful. “Little Red, who else came into the room tonight?”

Little Red had been at Wang Shihan’s side since the girl was young. She knew how clever and spirited her mistress was, and how her thoughts often leapt in unexpected directions—so much so that Little Red frequently struggled to keep up. Like now.

“Besides the three constables, Kang Er, Song Hui, and several others came in to tidy the room. Why do you ask?”

Wang Shihan said calmly, “The pair of silver gourds my mother gave me is missing.”

They were not silver flasks, but silver gourds: a matching pair of silver ornaments presented to Wang Chengjian’s beloved daughter on her twelfth birthday, symbolizing blessings and prosperity. She had kept them close at hand for years. When she returned to the room just now, she had found everything restored to its proper place—everything except the pair of silver gourds, which had vanished.

Little Red froze. “Could Kang Er and the others have taken them?”

Wang Shihan shook her head. “They had not gone far when I noticed the loss. I had them search one another, but the ornaments were nowhere to be found.”

Little Red suddenly understood, her eyes widening. “Could it have been one of those constables?” She glanced toward the window. “That would be terrible. Worried about your safety, the master had the constable who took part in the search placed downstairs just now. Wouldn’t that be inviting a wolf into the house?”

Wang Shihan rolled her eyes. “Speak any louder, and he will hear you downstairs.”

Little Red stuck out her tongue. They had grown up together, and Wang Shihan never put on airs, so Little Red was not truly afraid of her.

“There were three constables involved in the search,” Wang Shihan said. “It may not have been him. I will think of a way to deal with this. Do not say anything for now.”

After what had happened, it would have been a lie to say Wang Shihan was not afraid. Little Red was unwilling to leave her alone either, so she carried the bedding upstairs and made a pallet in the reception hall. Before long, her snores began to thunder through the room.

Wang Shihan was still deep in thought when the noise startled her. She could not help laughing. She carefully climbed out of bed, went into the hall, and lightly nudged Little Red with her toe. The snoring quieted for a moment, only to resume with earthshaking force.

Somewhat dejected, Wang Shihan hesitated, then removed the door bar and opened the door. The icy night wind rushed into her face, making her shiver involuntarily, yet it also roused her spirits. Pulling her thin garment more tightly around herself, she walked to the railing and looked up.

The moon hung in a pale, indistinct sky. The low houses in the distance were pitch-black, their silence stretching into the far reaches of the night. Two figures stood by the moon gate. She knew they were the guards her father had assigned, but both men merely leaned against the wall with iron clubs tucked under their arms; there was no telling whether they were awake or asleep.

Her gaze returned to the grape trellis in the courtyard. She had struggled to build it earlier that year, and after a whole summer of careful tending, vines now wound thickly across the frame, blooming in luxuriant profusion.

She yawned and was about to turn back to bed when, halfway through the motion, she slowly turned around again.

Through the grape trellis, she saw the silhouette of a man.

Her instinct was to cry out for help, but her mouth had only just opened when she stopped. She had suddenly realized who he was.

Gu Yu sat cross-legged on the ground, with a pair of iron rulers beside him so that he could strike swiftly at the first sign of danger. Earlier, he had opened the window and looked outside, only to find his field of vision severely restricted. Tang Haiqiu’s lightness skills were extraordinary; the man could appear from any direction, and it would be difficult to detect him in time by watching through the room’s window alone. Gu Yu had therefore taken the liberty of changing his position.

Beneath the grape trellis, he could see nearly every corner of the western courtyard while keeping himself concealed. He had immediately chosen it as his watch post.

He had noticed Wang Shihan the instant she opened the door. In the moonlight, he could see only a slender woman clad in a single thin layer. Gu Yu crooked his lips, hesitating over whether looking would count as improper, but Wang Shihan had already become aware of his presence.

Separated by dense blossoms and trailing leaves, the two watched one another. The darkness made their features indistinct, and neither offered a word of greeting.

The rising sun bathed the Shuntian Prefecture Office in light.

Yawning, Zhou Wei entered through the two successive gates. Behind him, his fellow constables dragged their weary feet toward the duty room. Dong Xinwu, who had been waiting at the entrance all night for news, ushered them inside and called out, “Tell Master Zhao to start heating the soup.”

Zhou Wei acknowledged him and hurried out of the courtyard. Before long, he returned with several men dressed as cooks. Working in pairs, they carried wooden buckets—three or four teams in all. At the head were Zhou Wei and a bald, potbellied man.

Dong Xinwu went forward to greet him. “Master Zhao, you have had a hard time. We have troubled you to bring it here personally.”

Master Zhao laughed. “That is nothing compared to the hardship you rapid-response constables endure. We are all family here, so there is no need for formalities.”

“Very well, let me give you a hand!”

Zhou Wei took hold of the bucket from Master Zhao, and together they hauled it into the duty room. By then, Zhou Wei had already found the bowls.

“Thank you, masters. We can handle the rest ourselves. Much obliged!”

The cooks repeatedly assured them it was no trouble and departed amid the constables’ thanks. Zhou Wei escorted Master Zhao to the courtyard gate. By the time he returned, Dong Xinwu had already ladled porridge into everyone’s bowls.

“Master, let me do it,” Zhou Wei said quickly, taking the ladle from him.

Steaming hot porridge was distributed among the famished constables. For a while, the duty room resounded with the uneven slurping of men eating.

Zhou Wei filled bowls for both Dong Xinwu and himself. The master and apprentice drank their hot porridge while trading information about the previous night’s developments.

“We have notified every qualified physician at the medicine shops in the four surrounding wards,” Zhou Wei said. “I also paid a visit to the Five-City Military Command. First, I explained what happened last night so that the two offices would not misunderstand each other. I also asked them to assist with the investigation. Only by working together can we force Tang Haiqiu out into the open.”

He lowered his voice and leaned closer to Dong Xinwu.

“The matter you instructed me to handle is also under way. We simply have no results yet.”